You Are Beautiful
by jakelsx
Summary: .troyella. He’s heartbroken though he still keeps you at the top of his priority list. He has this obligation to tell you you’re beautiful. Why? I don’t know. No one may ever know but him.


**You are Beautiful**

You are beautiful.

He says you are beautiful. He means it too.

The room is filled with people you know, people you love. They're all here for you.

You are dressed beautifully for your husband.

He is one of the ones in the pews.

Why is he crying? Well, he's crying for you. "You're beautiful today, Gabriella," he tells you. He leans down and presses a warn kiss to your lips.

Then he looks at you. He really looks at you like he's never going to see you again.

Then he's gone. You hear a few words and then you are being moved.

Moved. You didn't like that word. When you were little and in high school, you always moved. Except junior year… you stayed that year. You met him.

You met him over winter vacation and you've loved him ever since.

"No!" you hear him cry. You hear a bunch of murmurs.

The cold November air stings your face but you couldn't care less. "Troy," you want to say, "Troy, I'm fine." Nothing comes out.

"Stop!" his voice is breaking and you hear him cry. "She wouldn't want this."

"Son, this is just procedure," another deeper voice sighs.

"She might be just another person to you," Troy starts, tears already pouring down his face. "But she's my wife, the love of my life. She's important to _me_."

"I'm sure everyone here understands this, son," the other voice adds with a chuckle.

"Just leave it, Troy," a third voice calls. She recognizes that voice. It is the voice of a certain puffy haired freak that always tagged along with them. "She wouldn't care."

"Yes, she would!" he cries again. "She would!"

"Back off son and let us do our job," the deep voice says politely.

"She hates the dark!" He looks in the tall man's eyes frantically, searching for a change of heart.

"I'm sorry."

"Dear, god, stop saying that! I'm sick of everyone coming up to me and going, 'I'm sorry'! It's damn annoying! Why are _you_ sorry? Huh? Did you know her? Did you know that she likes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Did you know that she always washes her hands before every damn time she eats, no matter what? Did you know that she moved exactly fourteen times before she came to Albuquerque? Did you know her favorite color was crème? Or that she wanted a wedding in Rhode Island because everywhere else seemed too overrated? Did you know that she said she loved me exactly twenty-two times the day she died?" He is wailing now. "Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," came a quiet reply. "What I do know is that you loved her very much." Troy looks the man in the eye, waiting for another statement. "Orders are orders, sir."

"NO! You don't understand!" he cries. "She-she-"

"Troy, come on," Chad says. He grabs his arm, leading Troy off to the side, with all the other people. Troy struggles and soon two more of the men that attended the service come up to retrain Troy.

"Gabriella!" he cries. "Please!"

You can't look up. You can't see his face.

That's right, you're dead.

Black envelopes you. You're being taken down into the ground. You can't do anything about it.

You still hear him wailing your name like there's no tomorrow. It's no use.

--------

Everything's lighter here. Shiny almost.

You don't want to touch anything; it's too pure.

You can see him though. You're almost next to him.

He's at your house. Well, it's his house too. He's looking at your picture.

You want to reach out and touch him. "You look beautiful tonight, Gabriella," he whispers.

You hold back tears. You feel your heart finally drop to your stomach.

He leans back, putting the picture in its rightful place by the bed. His eyes wander, not wanting to look at anything in particular.

"Troy," you want to say, "its okay. I'm alright. Take care of yourself." You can tell he hasn't shaved since the day you died. His hair is messy and he stinks.

Silence.

Do you remember when he stayed with you outside? That day it rained in spring break junior year of college? He waited with you for the teacher to open the door to let you in for a make-up exam. He waited with you in the rain and cold. The teacher never showed up too. You had the wrong date. He gave you his jacket and he caught a horrible cold. He missed two weeks of school. Do you remember that?

Of course you do. That's what's gnawing at you right now.

It's the fact that he's done all this for you and you throw it all away.

Now he's heartbroken though he still keeps you at the top of his priority list. He has this obligation to tell you you're beautiful. Why? I don't know. No one may ever know but him.

Think about that, Gabriella. Why does he let himself rot while you sit in this shiny, comfortable, warm sanctum?

"You're beautiful, hon," he whispers as he finally falls asleep out of exhaustion.

* * *

**AN:// **Just had to let that out. Ugh, need more depression!

or reviews...either one would be nice right now...


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